


None of Them Were Named Mary

by NaughtyPastryChef



Series: Orgasms For Everyone! spn Kinktober 2017 [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 09:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12528644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: kinktober day 27 prompt: Strippers/Stripclubs. Sometimes, the right head of blonde hair can make John remember





	None of Them Were Named Mary

**Author's Note:**

> betaed and read through by the amazing, wonderful and BUSY AS HELL @bewarethesmirk. You rock for making time for me.

Despite what his boys think, despite what Bobby or Rufus or Pastor Jim think, John is a red-blooded male and he has needs. For years he suppressed them, with grief, with drink, with focusing on teaching his boys and hunting the things that go bump in the night. But every once in awhile, he gets an itch and he finds a safe spot for his boys for the night and takes himself off to the nearest strip joint to scratch it.

He starts off slow, drinking beer and studiously not making eye contact like all the other guys in the club. He claps and whistles and gives ill-gotten dollar bills to the ladies dancing. Sometimes, that’s enough. A couple drinks, a couple dances and pulling himself off in the restroom before he heads back to the hotel with the boys.

Sometimes, though, a girl catches his eye. Sometimes there will be a tall, willowy blonde on the stage and his cock throbs even as his heart breaks a little. He’s always had a thing for blondes. He would quietly ask his waitress if the dancer who’d caught his eye did private dances. If not, he would settle in, watch till she was done and leave; he didn’t want to be that guy who didn’t know the word “no”.

If she did offer private dances, he’d request it and wait as patiently as he could. He wasn’t much one for lapdances or private rooms in seedy strip clubs so when he met with the girl, he’d ask for something different. He’d ask her to pretend to be undressing after a long day’s work. He would sit in the proffered chair or couch and close his eyes till she was a blur of limbs and blonde hair and watch while the girl in question kicked off her shoes and pulled off whatever clothes she’d put on for the show.

Nothing was overly sexy about it, aside from watching a beautiful woman getting naked, but it did the trick for him. Mary never stripped for him, never danced as she pulled off her clothes. But he liked to watch her do it just the same. 

He’d sit on the bed in their room and rub absently at his cock through his pants as Mary went through her routine of getting ready for bed and that--the domesticity,the unselfconsciousness--was what turned him on. The way she wiggled her hips to get her jeans to drop to the floor and the way she would swing her hair out of the way while she unhooked her bra; those were the things he treasured.

Mary would always stop by and pull his pants off him while she was naked, her perfect breasts in full view and bouncing with each step. Sometimes her smiling lips would descend on his cock. Sometimes, she’d straddle his knees and sink right down onto him and ride them both into oblivion. Every once in awhile, she’d say she wasn’t in the mood herself, but offer herself up as an audience.

It’s the remembrance of those times that has him squeezing his eyes closed even more, blurring the form of the stripper as he sticks his hand down his jeans and jerks himself off quickly. If he calls anything out when he comes, no one has ever called him on it.

Even though he knows that none of the strippers has ever been named Mary.


End file.
